Night Comforts, Night Terrors
by Blue-Jaye.Fevre
Summary: Stiles observes terrifying forms of entertainment and has nightmares because of them. Only one cuddly Alpha can comfort him in the dark night. Possible oneshot, but if not it will be an anthology of sorts. Rated T for... Disturbing imagery I suppose? Yes it's Sterek but it's G Rated Sterek.
1. Domnique's Revenge

Just a little oneshot in the name of Sterek. Stiles has a discomforting nightmare about a terrifying television programme and needs comforting. Read and review! Or more importantly, Enjoy!

* * *

Dirty, debris strewn floors were disrupted as Stiles launched himself down the Asylum hallway. In his wake he left a tall, disfigured man, who lurched after him unnaturally.

The walls were covered in graffiti, and the entire building was reminiscent of a horror movie. Stiles had a vague feeling that he had seen this somewhere, but he didn't have time to think.

Scratching sounds echoed through the various rooms he passed, like a thousand rats clawing their way to freedom… or a thousand fingers scraping on metal doors.

Hands reached out of slots and through windows. Grubby, emaciated fingers with yellowed nails brushed against his face, trying to grab hold of whatever they could.

As Stiles ran he couldn't help but smell the air, a heady mix of dust and ammonia with a strong undercurrent of what he thought smelled like decay. It was a metallic smell, somewhere between iron and what he imagined rust would smell like.

His pursuer was unstoppable, chasing him down the hallway, eyes focused. Stiles was terrified of the thing behind him. It's face was hideously disfigured and the sharp, pointy-as-hell looking object it wielded was indicative of how it felt of Stiles.

Stiles preferred not getting stabbed in the face.

Stiles turned another corner, the fourth in three minutes he realized.

Suddenly he wasn't being followed.

Suddenly it was quiet.

Still even.

If not for the song. And the scratching

It was upbeat and folksy, but repetitive. A higher pitched woman sang something… was that French?

A sharp clicking of heels brought Stiles to watch the Hallway in front of him. For minutes it seemed as though the heels were coming, only growing louder and louder…

And then a black robed figure emerged from the hallway. The figure spun around, revealing a habit and a chalk-white face with black eyes.

The nun raised a finger to her lips and "shushed" him audibly. Stiles turned to run in the other direction, only to run straight into the face of evil.

He screamed as the man stabbed at his eyes.

"Stiles!"

Stiles was screaming and flailing on the bed, beating the living fuck out of Derek in the process.

"Stiles, it's okay hey baby it's okay!" Derek began, trying to calm Stiles.

Stiles was wide awake and extensively disoriented. Derek could tell that he was beyond hysterical at the moment.

Knowing few other things would help, Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles.

Stiles jerked around at first, but soon began to relax. His muscles slackened and he stopped trying to punch Derek.

Stiles slowly turned around to face Derek, looking visibly relieved to see him.

"You had a nightmare. It's 4:43 am. You need to go back to sleep."

Stiles remarked, and not for the last time, that even gentle Derek was sterner than a school teacher. Or a nun.

Stiles visibly shook and leaned in closer to the werewolf. Derek, despite his overtly prickly nature, was really a big softie. He also secretly gave the best hugs, and it was a well hidden fact that Derek _loved_ cuddling. Stiles sighed and he pushed himself into Derek's form, trying to forget the unpleasant dream.

"Nuns are scary. But it's always that damn Bl-"

"Yeah, we are done watching AHS." Judge Derek had laid down the law.

"But it's so gooooood!" Stiles whined. He genuinely loved the television show, with its unique plot lines, layered characters, demented cinematography, and sheer awesomeness.

It also scared the living daylights out of him.

"This is the third night you've woken up screaming."

"Is not." Stiles replied defiantly, regardless of the truth.

Derek merely held onto Stiles tighter.

He loved the young man, but he could be a handful sometimes. Especially when scared.

Derek had to wonder if he was the slightest bit masochistic, watching a scary movie or tv show and then waking up in the wee hours of the night screaming about bloody murder head or cube face or something.

Loud Meadows? What was that damnable video game Stiles loved?

Derek sighed and nuzzled into Stiles neck. Of all the things Stiles could be legitimately scared of, he chose the fictional ones to be afraid of.

As opposed to the real monster in his bed.


	2. Krawly Klowns from Koney Island!

Hooray! I've decided to turn this into more than a oneshot! It will become a short story with a legitimate plot. Nothing too heavy, but I believe it will ultimately satisfy! :D Enjoy!

* * *

A giant fucking spider with a mangled clown's face was chasing him through an arachnid themed Amusement Park.

There was _nothing_ fucking amusing about this park.

Firstly, it was a Boardwalk, which meant that on half of the park was situated either next to or on top of the ocean. Normally this wouldn't be a problem.

Except this time it was an Ocean of Spiders. Millions of spiders climbing on top of each other and scurrying onto every surface in reach.

Stiles hated Spiders, and he hated clowns even more.

How fitting, that he was dashing for his life along a rotted Boardwalk crawling with Spiders, with some monstrous killer clown-spider hybrid racing after him.

Skittering after him.

Stiles continued to run, stepping on Spiders with every step. The Boardwalk carried on for what seemed like miles.

Behind him he could hear a rasping voice: "Sssssstilesss… Come back! I can make you laugh sssssso hard you'll ssssurely CRY!"

Stiles screamed as the Clown Spider advanced on him. It was gaining considerable speed.

Stiles just focused on the Boardwalk ahead of him, and he was speeding up-

*crack*

Stiles' foot plunged through the Boardwalk and into the sea of spiders. Stiles screamed as he could feel hundreds of spiders of all sizes crawling over his legs and up his body. He tried to remove his foot from the Boardwalk but he couldn't. Stiles had his eyes closed, he couldn't look.

A set of hands lifted him out of the Boardwalk and shook the Spiders off of him.

Stiles opened his eyes.

Big Mistake.

Gigantic fucking mistake.

The Clown was holding him by his foot, so that Stiles was upside down. The Clown's head rotated one hundred and eighty degrees so that it was looking right at him.

The Clown's face split open to reveal a massive set of pincers rushing towards his face…

* * *

*WHAM*

Stiles had jabbed Derek in the face with his elbow as hard as he could.

Derek, who up until this moment had been peacefully sleeping, awoke with a furious roar.

Stiles had his eyes closed and was screaming and flailing on the bed as though he were drowning. He was also smacking himself all over.

"Stiles!" Derek grabbed the sleeping boy, but Stiles screamed louder and resisted Derek's touch.

"STILES!" Derek roared, eyes glowing red and fangs extending. The room shook and Stiles snapped wide awake.

After several seconds of shaking violently in Derek's arms Stiles gained balance of his surroundings.

"D-De-Derek…?" Stiles muttered, completely and utterly spooked. His wide brown eyes were alight with terror. "Are they gone? Are the spiders gone?" Stiles asked, eyes darting around the room.

"Stiles, there are no spiders. Was that what your nightmare was about?"

Stiles sagged visibly. It felt so real…

"Derek they were all over me, and this clown tried to eat me."

"Cannibal clowns?"

"No, Spider Clown monster thing. Kind of like a centaur but absolutely not cool and totally horrifying." Stiles heartbeat was thumping furiously in his chest.

Derek pulled Stiles close, but Stiles flinched at the touch.

Derek sighed and nuzzled Stiles neck. Stiles merely whimpered at the touch. Derek knew that Stiles had a rampant imagination and that he was prone to insomnia, but this was utterly ridiculous.

All skepticism evaporated however when Stiles turned to face Derek and began to sob into his shoulder. This… this was not normal. Stiles almost never cried, and if he did it had to do with his mom, not a silly nightmare.

Derek merely held Stiles tighter. Spiders be damned, no one would hurt _his_ mate. _His_ Stiles.

"I've got you Sty. It's going to be okay."

"I love you Der, I really do." Stiles whispered into his neck between sobs.

* * *

Later that morning Derek got up exceedingly early and swept the entire Hale Household for arachnids, exterminating them with extreme prejudice.

Anything for his Stiles.

* * *

I hope you don't all hate me forever for introducing the concept of "Spider Ocean" into your concious minds. If you never sleep again, I am deeply sorry.

Also, Stiles kicks the sheets when he dreams of spiders, much like I do in real life when I believe spiders are crawling on me. Little imaginary bastards. :(


End file.
